


John’s Discovery

by MelinaLove



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Accidental wetting, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Omorashi, Protective John Deacon, Shy Freddie, Shy John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22225399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelinaLove/pseuds/MelinaLove
Summary: After only one month with Queen, John finds out some more about Freddie Mercury.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 22





	John’s Discovery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous6285](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous6285/gifts).



He's only been with the band a month, but the queer one, Freddie - although he says he has a girlfriend, it’s blindingly obvious - has clearly decided to look after him. John feels weird about that, as he doesn’t think he needs much looking after... There’s young, and then there’s young. You grow up fast after your Dad dies. He doesn’t really feel any different from the others. 

If anything, Freddie’s the one who Brian and Roger seem to be looking out for, more or less subtly. It’s a peculiar dynamic, but not bad... Freddie, Roger has explained to him in a hurried, private chat, went to boarding school young. VERY young. Don’t ever ask him about it, but if something seems weird? That’s probably why, and please be patient with him, John... 

It’s obvious, as well, that Freddie has something. That the very best ideas, sparks of inspiration - they come from him. The others are great too, but Freddie’s the magical one. Without him, Queen wouldn’t BE at all. 

So John lets him fuss as much as he wants, if it makes him feel better about letting someone younger into the band. He does want to be there, after all! He’s never played as well as this, never with anyone so dedicated...

Is John warm enough, Freddie always wants to know, even though he’s usually visibly shivering himself. He’s tiny (John’s seen him buy a t-shirt, meant for himself to wear, from a shop full of children’s clothes), and he obviously feels the cold, but complains about it less than you might expect. 

He’s also assiduous about feeding John. They’re not exactly rolling in money, but John feels as if he’s a prodigal son or something, the way Freddie always wants him to have more, or the best. He feels like a greedy little arse, but also, if he’s honest, quite grateful. 

Today, Freddie’s taken him to Biba to meet Mary, the famous girlfriend. She does, after all, exist! Alarmingly chic and self possessed... Like Freddie, but blonde and with confidence, John thinks, trying to make conversation with her once she’s come out of the offices at the back to see them. Freddie’s looking at the makeup, opening tiny compacts curiously. 

It’s not a bad morning, because he really does like Freddie a lot. He’s shy, John could tell that at once - maybe even more shy than he is, although it might be just that he’s a - well, there isn’t any really nice word for it. He gets a lot of looks, even round the outside of Biba, where you’d think people wouldn’t... but it’s okay inside.

John wants to ask Mary if she and Freddie are really boyfriend and girlfriend, but he can’t, of course. He knows not to be rude. Is she a lesbian? He’s never met one, but it would explain the curious paradox of Freddie “loving” a girl, if she has a secret too. 

“I must buy you some lunch,” Freddie says, as soon as they’re out of the shop. “You look tired...”

“I’m really fine, you don’t have to -” He’s worried Freddie can’t afford it.

“No, dear, I dragged you here, I can’t not feed you.” Freddie’s delicate face is flushed slightly pink, so John agrees, not wanting to upset him, and they begin an extended wander in search of somewhere nice enough (mostly Freddie) and cheap enough (mostly John) to suit their requirements. 

Freddie has his own reasons for wanting to go to a cafe. He’s starting to need the toilet quite badly. If it were Roger - or even Brian, he might say something. He might. Perhaps. Although it would still be embarrassing. But they’d definitely understand why he was speaking up, and they wouldn’t mind going with him to the public toilets and waiting for him...

John doesn’t know, though. It’s not as if Freddie has accidents all the time, and John’s only been with them just over four weeks! 

He’s usually fine. Fine-ish. He’s been fine since John joined, except for sometimes not quite making it to the loo in time and ending up with a bit of a damp spot in his knickers. That isn’t an accident, though, it’s only a leak, not really worse than anyone might get if they don’t shake off properly, if they’re in a hurry... 

He’s wet the bed a handful of times, too, but John hasn’t moved in, not yet. Freddie’s not sure if he ever will, so there’s no need for him ever to know about that, is there? 

And anyway, as horrible as it is, wetting the bed isn’t the same as actually having an accident in daylight hours. 

He isn’t going to today, not out in public - not with John - not that he ever wants to, of course. The nagging of his full bladder is getting painful now, starting to alter his gait so he can’t take long strides, but they’re sure to find somewhere soon. He’s suggested a couple, but he can tell by the way John turns them down that he thinks Freddie’s being extravagant. 

Maybe he is, but he also - he needs to get into a cafe or a restaurant soon. Very soon. His bladder is bouncing and heavy, and he has to stop for a moment, the pain too much... John has paused, just ahead of him, and turned back, looking concerned.

“Freddie?” 

“It’s nothing.” His voice is so tight and high that he barely sounds like himself at all. He struggles to force the pitch down and says, “Let’s - we need to find somewhere...” 

But as he steps forward, he feels the first burning drop come out, wetting his knickers, far, far too hot on a chilly day like this one, when his skin is icy... 

He freezes, clenching up to try and get control back, but the first drop is instantly succeeded by a second, and then not drops at all - a trickle, into his underwear, wetting the front... He should hold himself, he needs to hold himself, but then John will see. He’ll know Freddie needs to go, he’ll know Freddie’s near having an accident. 

Freddie’s eyes are getting just as wet. 

“Freddie? Oh god, what’s up? Did I - did I say something?” 

Poor John has come right up to him, touching his arm, looking into his wet eyes. Freddie can’t explain, can’t say what it is...

And then suddenly it’s too late. His overstrained, exhausted little bladder begins to empty. Not a trickle. A hot fast stream. Soaked knickers. The front of his trousers is wet too, in mere moments, and then his legs - it’s trickling down both of them, burning hot, but just as bad, he knows it’s soaked through, that he’s all wet. Covered in it. He’s peed all over himself again, only this time... in front of John.

John who respected him before. Or so it seemed. Who didn’t appear to think he was weird, or a total loser, who hadn’t known him as that pathetic boy trying to get into Smile, like Brian and Roger both had... 

He’s crying now. 

“Freddie - oh, Freddie, oh my god, fuck -” John is panicking. This has certainly never happened before. The last time he remembers seeing someone pee in their clothes, he was six, and so was the accident-haver, and the clothes were a nativity play sheep costume. 

Freddie can’t answer, though, he’s crying too much.

“Why didn’t you say?” John says, helpless. He has, vaguely and distantly, noticed that among other things, Brian and Roger sometimes usher Freddie to the bathroom, but he’d taken it for just another part of their general solicitousness towards the obviously most needy member of Queen. He’d never thought for a second that Freddie - what - needed to be reminded? It seems impossible. 

He tugs Freddie gently to the side of the pavement, against a relatively featureless building, and up the street a bit. They can at least get away from that damning puddle. Poor Freddie’s still crying too hard to really talk, but it feels like the obvious thing to do, and he has to do something. 

Freddie cries for what feels like a very long time, but he has to stop in the end - the tears run dry. He’s exhausted now, leaning against the wall itself for support, bracing his trembling wet legs. He never wanted John to find out, not ever, and this is... the worst way. The worst.

Another sob forces itself out of his mouth, and John says, “Please stop, Freddie - please, I’m not going to be an arse about it, honestly, I just... didn’t know.” 

It could be a one off disaster, he knows that. It’s technically possible. Maybe this was just really, really bad luck, and shyness (although he’s shy, and it’s never led him to piss himself). Somehow, though, he’s already convinced that’s not the case. 

“Wait here just one minute...maybe two, two at most,” he says, deciding he has to do something to get them back to Freddie’s flat. “I’ll just go into the corner shop and get a paper, a broadsheet... Then we can go to the cab rank. It’s only one time -”

Freddie sobs, and he instantly regrets the words.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “We’ll... I’ll get you home. I’ll look after you, I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Requests for Freddie omo are open!


End file.
